


Even the apocalypse requires paperwork

by liliaeth



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alien apocalypse - Freeform, Aliens, Gen, Mild Gore, mention of canibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liliaeth/pseuds/liliaeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To the Quadrel, most of humanity was nothing more than a bunch of animals, owned and controlled by the shifters hidden amongst them.  It had been to the shifters that the Quadrel had directed their apologies for the massacres they'd committed on arrival, and it had been with the supernatural that they’d signed their peace treaties. </p><p>Scott didn't look to lead, but Beacon Hills needed an Alpha, and he happened to be the only one around to take the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even the apocalypse requires paperwork

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gryvon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryvon/gifts).



Scott sank down in his seat, trying to get through the papers in front of him. Given this was the end of the world as they knew it, Scott had never expected there to be so much paperwork. But then, what had he expected when he’d agreed to become the Beacon Hills Alpha. As in Alpha in charge, instead of just another Alpha running his own pack. 

It still didn’t make much sense to him, but when the Quadrel came, their lack of respect for regular humans was obvious almost instantly. Send them a human messenger and they’d more likely eat them as talk to them. Millions, if not billions of people had died, or worse, been kidnapped to who knows where,(no they did know where, and that was the worst part) as the Quadrel forced their way across the planet. The only thing that kept them back was their discovery of Earths less… natural inhabitants. Weres, kitsunes, wendigos, … beings that, according to the Quadrel, had a soul and were therefore seen as sentient and worthy of their respect. 

To the Quadrel, the rest of humanity was nothing more than a bunch of animals, owned and controlled by the shifters hidden amongst them. It had been to the shifters that the Quadrel had directed their apologies for their massacres, and it had been with the supernatural that they’d signed their peace treaties. 

Now what was left of humanity huddled in smaller towns, only protected if they had an Alpha in charge to take ownership. After the mayor died, taken out by a group of Quadrel who’d seen a town meeting as a snack location, the sheriff had asked Scott to take the job, and with his dreams of being a doctor forced to take a setback, Scott hadn’t really had a choice.

Derek seemed to be taking far too much joy out of it all. Not the past, but the fact that as a beta, he didn’t have to worry about keeping things running. Or the worst part of it: the paperwork.

“Things look to be in order,” Scott finally said, pushing the papers back to the couple that stood in front of him. If it had been up to him, he’d have welcomed them in town as soon as they asked for sanctuary, but Stiles kept insisting that he was too trusting, that they couldn’t let just anyone inside. That in the chaos that had taken over the country, some people thought the shifters were in on it with the Quadrel. 

As if the country’s current state were the supernatural’s fault, rather than something that they’d been forced to deal with, just like everyone else had. It’s why some groups of survivors targeted were leaders, seeing them as oppressors at worst, collaborators at best. And knowing what he knew about some of the other Alphas in the world and how they’d taken advantage of the situation, Scott couldn’t entirely blame the human resistance for seeing things the way they did. He could blame them though, for putting entire towns in danger by taking out the only thing that kept those people from being picked up as livestock by the Quadrel. 

After all, property without an owner, according to Quadrel law, was free to be taken by anyone with the power to do so.

“Scott.”

Scott pushed through the papers to Stiles who gave them another look before nodding.

“Welcome to Beacon Hills,” Scott said, trying to think about the homes that were free for new inhabitants, and the supplies that these people would need. When they left, Scott leant back in his chair, his nails sharpening the wood as he tried desperately not to think of all the people still out there, unable to get to safety.

Derek and Stiles were arguing again. The usual crap: Stiles shouldn’t try to make Scott look weak in front of newbies. It was an old fight. Derek never quite got why Scott kept Stiles in his inner circle, if he wanted to keep a human involved, there were the Argents or the sheriff, Derek had said. But none of those were Scott’s oldest friend, and the one guy he trusted to watch his back.

He’d offered Stiles the bite, but Stiles refused. He said that he was born human, and he wanted to die human. Scott had cringed at the tone, but accepted. There were more weres in town these days than just the old packs. Many had asked to be turned, once they realized that the Quadrel would leave shifters alone. Derek had held a town meeting, explaining the dangers, but many still wanted the bite, at the very least for their children. As wolves they’d be safe, or at least they wouldn’t be seen as food. It scared Scott sometimes how quickly so many were willing to discard what they’d been, but he couldn’t blame them either.

Scott tried not to think of the treaties they were talking with the neighboring towns, the ones that didn’t have an Alpha of their own, and that were supposedly also in his possession. It had been so much easier when he’d just been a kid who happened to be a true Alpha, instead of the guy the Quadrel came to talk to when they hoped to get their hands on more soft drinks or human flesh. The second of which he definitely kept refusing, no matter how often they asked for it. By now Scott knew that the Quadrel traders saw the second as an in-joke. One Scott would find a lot funnier, if their Alpha didn’t keep licking his lips whenever he looked at Stiles. As if Scott would just hand over his closest friend, or personal pet as they saw Stiles, to be used for dinner. 

It’s also why Scott would never touch any meat offered to him by his Quadrel host whenever he was forced to meet with the Quadrel ambassador to the region. You never knew what, or who, would end up on your plate.

“I don’t see why you’re so squeamish, Alpha McCall.” The alien had told him last time they spoke. “They’re just animals. Cute and cuddly, maybe, as pups, but nothing more than that. They lack a soul, they lack a conscience, vermin crawling your planet.”

“I was human, once,” Scott had answered, kept back from the anger he felt whenever he was faced with any of them. He knew that if he showed his anger, the ambassador might lose respect for him; there were too many people depending on the Quadrel’s good will for him to lose his temper. He might be a were, which got him some credit, but when it came down to it, even the weres would stand helpless against the Quadrel in a real fight. Their tech was too advanced for where humanity was at now. 

“But you evolved. As did your kind, you gained a soul, became more than animals. And until those masses of filth do as well, the only thing you and their kind have in common is the ugly way you look when you’re not shifted.”

Scott hadn’t been in his human form since he first took charge of Beacon Hills. Sometimes he wondered if he even could go back anymore. Which was the real him, the wolf, or the boy he’d been? 

Did it even matter?

He signed some more papers, desperate to go running in the woods. But he couldn’t, he was the Alpha now. Was it any wonder that Derek had taken it upon himself to be Scott’s protector? Anything to make sure that Derek would never be forced to take up the mantle of Alpha ever again. 

Scott envied him his freedom. 

This wasn’t the life he’d wanted when he was a kid, this definitely wasn’t the life either he or Stiles had hoped for, dreamed for, and it didn’t match the plan Stiles had written up for them after Peter found him in the woods, after the bite, after the Pack, after everything had changed, but had still been the same as well. Now, none of those plans mattered anymore, but it was what they had. And Scott figured, if they had to live with it, at least he still had Stiles. And that had to be enough. It had to be.

 

The end


End file.
